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May 2017

And I saw her silhouette, backlit by a
make-shift sun, her hair draped
around her shoulder, her eyes


in tears, her smile I haven't seen for
years--it seemed. I have forgotten the
dirge when the bridge was burnt by


flaming hearts. Nothing was left but
ghosts and an urn of love letters. And here
again, I dreamt last night. And I saw


dress still resting on my restless chair,
as if no one left, nothing is lifted, not
even her goodbye, and my hello.
So I have to leave it to the clock to


for it confesses that I am weak.
Jose Remillan
Written by
Jose Remillan  Makati City, Philippines
(Makati City, Philippines)   
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